It appears that Take Two has a new game on the ready-set-go, codenamed 000A at the Australian Classification Board. Speculations and comments on the meanings of this little snippet are all-over. So What's your pick? Because i really hope is Agent!

Problem is, usually we know quite a bit about the game before it gets rated. I remember the hype of IV getting its ratings. The fact that it is a "code name" and only in Austrailia makes me think they're testing those rocky Aussie waters.

I vote L.A. Noire since it is in the final stages of production and features bloody/gruesome crime scenes. If the Aussies feel it is too much, R* has time to make adjustments before submitting for a final rating.

I was about to say "Fuck Australia, they're not dumbing down my L.A. Noire!" But with Team Bondi being based there, I suppose it's important (if it is L.A. Noire) to get things right with the board. It'll be helping boost Australias image in the gaming map of the world. Last thing they need is a game that no magazine or TV network will advertise.

Edit: Let's not just presume it's a Rockstar game anyway, could be a 2K game.

I did hear somewhere about a game called 1976 or something from R*. Something to do with the war in Iran. Not sure where i heard it. I've looked for it on the net with no avail. i think i heard it on the radio from one of the developer directors.

I did hear somewhere about a game called 1976 or something from R*. Something to do with the war in Iran. Not sure where i heard it. I've looked for it on the net with no avail. i think i heard it on the radio from one of the developer directors.

Just had this discussion with my roommate a few days ago. It's "1979: The Game" by former GTA team member Navid Khonsari (director, voices, some other things). It's by his own company not Rockstar Games.

Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.